


like or like like

by lambchops (lambmeat)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Coming Out, Dirty Talk, Face-Sitting, Gender Dysphoria, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Riding, Trans Jesse McCree
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:42:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27121996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lambmeat/pseuds/lambchops
Summary: McCree was never one for reciprocation-- a surprisingly enthusiastic giver but never one to take in exchange. Quick blow-jobs mid-mission and handjobs in the locker room wind up with Reyes welcoming his agent into his quarters and bed. But despite it, McCree doesn't let Gabriel return the favor, and Reyes, while not knowing why, is never one to push.In light of their relationship quickly turning domestic, McCree finally allows himself to be vulnerable and exposed, and lets Reyes return the favor.
Relationships: Jesse McCree/Reaper | Gabriel Reyes
Comments: 6
Kudos: 40





	like or like like

**Author's Note:**

> nub, slit, cunt, cock used for mccree-- binder stays on
> 
> the briefest mention of breeding, fantasy pregnancy, and the like at the very end- just dirty talk as reyes feels out what he can and can't say

It had become near tradition; Reyes leaving the quarters unlocked as he showered at a set time every night after lights-out. There was nothing to it, and if another superior officer voiced their concerns over the lax security from the commander of black operations and intelligence, he would brush it off as a one-off thing.

Just as McCree would dismiss his “aimless” walks through the base, coincidentally in the direction of commanding quarters. Aimless, he’d insist, or he must’ve gotten lost despite living on base longer than he’s lived anywhere else in his life.

Gabriel wasn’t the slightest bit surprised to see McCree lounging on his king bed, mussying the typically tidied covers and staring at his permitted social media. The young man doesn’t stir even as Reyes steps further out of the bathroom connected to his quarters and hardly offers any acknowledgement past a bothered grunt as Reyes sweeps his still-dripping hair back and flicks the stray droplets at his agent.

Rounding the side of the bed and into Jesse’s field of view, Gabriel clears his throat.

“You’re in my way.”

Finally looking up, McCree smiles warmly at him and rolls onto his back, asserting himself to one half of the large bed. Dressed in only a towel, Reyes keeps a firm hold on his decency as he settles into bed with a sigh of gratification, grateful to be off his feet.

“Tired, old man?” McCree shoots at him teasingly. Reyes shakes his head and rolls his eyes.

“You’re the one sleeping during drills.”

Snickering, Jesse sets his device on his chest and gazes up at his superior warmly. Reyes side-eyes him.

“You’re looking at me.”

“M-hm.”

Gabriel elects to ignore him, but he can feel the younger’s eyes bore into the side of his face. Trying to focus on his tablet, his patience only handles so much before it thins into a slippery sheet of ice. 

“What do you want, McCree?” Reyes says, flat but not annoyed. All he gets is a tight shrug.

“Dunno. Just looking.”

“Take a picture, then.”

“You don’t let me,” McCree mumbles, finally putting his eyes on something else. Reyes makes a face at that, hearing the disappointment and upset in his voice. He knows that it’s particularly hard on the cowboy, being unable to be as open as other couples given their unique relationship. Commanders and agents are meant to stay mutually exclusive to prevent power imbalances, but in a way that could never be articulated in front of a council, McCree is the one that holds most the power in the relationship.

He softens the grizzled old dog, mellows him out some, and even gets him to roll over on occasion. Despite the visage of an insolent, untrained mutt next to a pedigree military hound, Gabriel finds himself on his back, allowing the younger to domineer and lead their interactions, even out in the public eye. Long since learned that he’s not going to be getting out of drills for simply being invited into Reyes’ bed, he takes what he can get-- extra helpings of praise on the side of every drill, a smoke break when Jesse earns it, and the reality that no one else can easily loop his arm around the commander’s neck and bark loud and ugly in his ear over a crude joke.

“I know. I’m sorry,” Gabriel says softly, shutting down the tablet before setting it on the nightstand, “c’mere.” Opening an arm up, he extends the olive branch down to Jesse and invites him to slot against his ribs. The light shadow of cloudy upset passes quickly, and Reyes returns the sunny smile he gets as McCree worms his way not beside him, but above his lap.

“I get it,” McCree hums, then shrugs, “I take what I can get.”

“Don’t I know that.”

McCree knuckles him in the pec, light and teasing, and Reyes laughs under his breath. His hand gingerly settles on the outside of his knee, thumb petting his hard edges. The humor from McCree’s face melts away into content, affixing his eyes on Reyes’ features once more.

“What?”

“You’re jus’...” McCree fumbles for a word,  _ gorgeous, stunning, sexy,  _ “real handsome.”

“You flatter me,” Reyes hums, returning the quiet fondness, “you’re quite handsome yourself, cowboy.” McCree blushes and grins lopsidedly, looking somewhere between  _ shucks _ and  _ quiet, you _ . A shy hand comes up to stroke a scarred cheek, and the energy turns to something more serious.

Eyeing him, Reyes keeps his gaze firm and indifferent, even as McCree leans in and hovers his lips as hairsbreadth away from Gabriel’s. They stalemate with McCree suspended above Reyes’ lap, not certain enough to apply his weight but enough to get himself there. In a paradox of their complex relationship, between spur-of-the-moment blowjobs and filthy exchanges, kissing was an apparent roadblock. It was understandable that his agent didn’t feel comfortable exposing himself to his commander despite Reyes offering reassurances and encouragement, even.

In the face of their intricate system of unspoken boundaries and permissions, Reyes settles his hands on McCree’s hips. Fingers fanning out, thumbs massaging the toned muscle of his stomach, he wordlessly coaxes McCree to settle his entirety in his lap. It acted as a catalyst, as though Reyes’ permission was enough to cross the internal bridge that snagged McCree on occasion.

Finally flush with Reyes, McCree closes the gap between them with shocking tenderness. His initiation is soft, as gentle as a stray ember in dry straw. Not an eruption or an explosion, but a quiet and delicate kindling. Reyes needed him to burn, meeting his kiss with more enthusiasm than the cowboy expected, as he peels away after just a moment to swallow his surprise.

A small noise, needy and clipped, escapes McCree as he rushes back in. His nervous energy is static, charged, and shifting into overdrive. Reyes returns a soothing hum as he guides the pace between them, keeping their tempo slow and steady as a dance of lovers and not of fighters. 

It’s no doubt that Jesse has kissed before, mouth moving with experience, albeit built off shaky, uncertain memories. Reyes works to shape those unmolded memories into something smoother, stronger, and sweeter. 

Allowing his hands to settle more firmly on McCree’s, he allows a gentle sigh to bleed into the kiss as he feels his stomach stirs with interest.

It was more tender than what they’re used to, even though they’ve fallen into domestic patterns on the side. Anything sexual has been kept one-sided per McCree’s request, and Reyes is content to let the younger play with him all he wants although he does wish he could return the favor personally.

While it has been brought up, McCree has only ever offered a shrug and a mumbled excuse as to why he doesn’t like to be touched intimately. Gabriel can construct a few wild guesses as to why that may be, from self-confidence flagging before his commander or it simply being a part of the fun.

Sighing heavily between their lips, Reyes’ eyebrows knit together as McCree inadvertently ruts against him, encouraging his body to react. The towel between them will do little to obscure the fact that Reyes is growing excited, the dampened material bulging beneath McCree as he hardens.

Suddenly, McCree stills and lifts himself back up, evading Gabriel’s lap. Pulling Reyes out of the comfortable headspace he had fallen into, he opens his eyes blearily and peeks at the other. His face is inscrutable, and concern wells up in him.

“You okay?”

McCree gives a little nod, still bracing on his chest. One of his thumbs mindlessly sweeps across his pec. Reyes narrows his eyes, as he can see Jesse peering down between them at their bodies, face flushed.

“What do you want?” he asks gruffly, petting his hips. He’s been told not to touch his ribs nor anything below the belt.

“You.” The response is uncharacteristically meek, and Reyes frowns.

“You can have me, McCree.”

McCree nods, and settles back down slowly. Trying to settle comfortably on Reyes’ obscured cock, McCree doesn’t meet his eyes.

“Hey,” Reyes says, gently as he grabs his attention, “do you want this?” His worst fear is their relationship becoming an obligation to the cowboy, as though he somehow owes his commander his body in exchange for the affection.

McCree nods, then takes one of Reyes’ hands off his belt and holds it. An unintelligible mumble eeks out, and Reyes prompts him to speak up. Refusing to meet eyes, McCree raises his voice.

“I’m trans, boss.”

Reyes blinks at him, surprised but largely nonplussed. Nodding, he rubs his thumb across the back of his hand. It makes sense why Jesse refused contact in specific areas, likely to cover the fact that he was, but ultimately, in Reyes’ mind, that didn’t matter. He was still the same obnoxious cowboy that he had taken a liking to as he was now that Reyes knows he’s trans.

“That doesn’t matter.”

A little sadly, McCree shakes his head, “it does.” 

“It doesn’t matter to  _ me, _ ” he reiterates with an upset scowl. All McCree does is heave a sigh. Moving his other hand to his stomach, then up the side to his ribs, he can now freely feel the binder under the thin military shirt. McCree looks at though he was stifling a flinch or a wince, uncertain about the contact over what was to him such a sacred secret.

“Do you want this?” Reyes hums again, catching his eyes. McCree nods, transfixed on the tender touches to his body now, as though baffled by the fact that his commander didn’t care. Reyes pushes his thumb beneath the binder, playing with the shirt fabric and worrying it under the hem of the canvas fabric. “What do you want from me?” Reyes asks delicately, trying his best to give McCree the power over the situation with his meticulous wording.

Fidgeting and shrugging, McCree chews his lip. Reyes flicks his hand for it, and he provides a tiny smile of amusement.

“I’m, uh… okay with everything… here,” McCree says falteringly, making a rough gesture to his groin. Reyes nods, moving to pet McCree’s thighs now that he’s received permission to. Pinching the lean muscles of his agent beneath his sweats, he finds he can now fully appreciate the young man’s athletic build. All the hours in the training rooms and after-hours gym work on top of a good and proper diet has done his physique wonders; once a scraggly, near-malnourished creature of the desert, he’s flourished into a powerhouse in every facet.

The attention seems to embolden him, as he shifts and settles more firmly in Reyes’ lap. Reaching behind him to pinch his shirt collar, he pulls it over his head and throws it onto the floor. It grants him a happy rumble from Reyes, who runs his hands across the soft happy trail that spills across the plains of his stomach. It brings about a deep blush as McCree can only watch his commander worship his body.

“Can I?” Reyes says suddenly, dipping a finger into the waistband of McCree’s sweats. 

“Yeah,” Jesse says breathily, lifting his hips up to allow the hem of his sweats to be slipped off. The moment they’ve shucked them aside, Reyes is happily massaging the well-built muscles of McCree’s ass through his briefs- something he’s wanted to do for a long time, ever since McCree started to initiate more inappropriate contact with him.

Then, one of his hands moves, and he reaches to cup McCree’s heat.

It elicits a flinch, but Reyes takes it in stride, firming his touch. Slowly, Jesse sinks down into his hand with an unsteady sigh. Running his thumb over the swell of McCree’s cock, he hums a satisfied note.

“You’re hard.”

Enthusiastically now, McCree nods. Reyes grins with a soft chuckle. It presses against the light fabric of his boxer briefs, raising the material just so as if to present itself even without being seen. Moving further down, he sweeps his thumb through his slit, pressing the fabric in. Doing so a couple times reveals that the cloth was damp.

His cock twitches, and he leans forward and kisses McCree’s stomach. The other’s hand comes and tugs his towel. It goes easy, Reyes raising his hips to let the towel be taken and discarded off the side of the bed. Continuing to kiss McCree’s stomach and teasing his cock through his briefs, he purrs as McCree tangles his fingers in his short hair.

“Can… can I?” McCree mumbles, fingers edging beneath his briefs.

“Let me see you, Jesse,” Reyes encourages, helping McCree slip his underwear off. Cock throbbing at the sight, Reyes drinks it in. Dressed lightly in dark hair, his cock, flushed pink and peeking out from the hood, stands at attention under Reyes’ gaze. It gives its own weak pulse as Jesse shies at the intense assessment. 

Timidly, McCree shuffles on his knees above Reyes’ lap.

“I want your mouth,” he drawls, uncertain, more of a question than a request. Reyes only breathes deeply and presses one last kiss to his stomach before shuffling flat on his back.

“C’mere,” he says with a soft motion. The younger of the two hesitates, but with a little encouraging pull, Reyes hooking his hand in the crook of his knee, McCree shifts until he’s straddling Reyes’ wide chest. He’s acutely aware that he’s making a mess on him; he couldn’t help that his body was already starting to stir with interest and respond appropriately. 

It didn’t seem to bother Reyes none, as he continues to guide the younger until he’s kneeling above his face. A rumble resonates through Reyes’ body as he looks at McCree’s cock, and it makes his agent want to twist away and hide himself from those intense eyes. Before he can even think about it, he shivers as Reyes’ hot breath hits him and gasps as he feels the first pass of his commander’s tongue.

No one has ever done this to him before, and the feeling is mind-blowing-- he feels his cock throb as Reyes teases it with the tip of his tongue, swelling and hardening under the attention. Long, languid laps make McCree moan, shuffling his thighs even wider and settling his weight down a little more.

The sensation of Reyes’ tongue playing with his hole is his reward, and it elicits a little jump before McCree sinks down into it, hopelessly hooked.

“Do that again,” he mumbles waveringly, leaning back so he can cant his hips. Reyes peaks at him for a moment, his face flushed where it’s hidden by McCree’s thighs, before he does. Whimpering, McCree can’t help it as his hips begin to rock against his commander’s mouth, a hand snaking down to grab ahold of Reyes’ hair. 

One of the hands that was kneading his ass disappears, and Reyes sighs deeply after a moment of pause. Glancing over his shoulder, he sees Gabriel with his cock, fat with arousal and flushed ruby red at the tip, in hand. He pumps it slowly, most of his attention poured into pleasuring McCree.

The sight alone makes another ripple of pleasure shoot down McCree’s spine. That, and how Reyes has turned his attention to worshipping McCree’s cock were quickly bringing McCree closer to his end. Moaning raggedly, he starts to grind down with conviction. In short, stunted bucks, he fucks Reyes’ mouth with whimpering swears.

In a mantra of expletives, McCree stutters and freezes in silence as his orgasm comes crashing down around him. Trembling mightily, his silent wail turns into a pitiful moan as Reyes works him through it, stretching it out until he’s flinching away and shuffling back onto Reyes’ chest for a reprieve.

Out of breath as if he had just run a mile, McCree takes a moment to simply shiver and pant. When he finally gets enough core strength to sit upright, he sees Gabriel peering up at him. He looks pleased with himself in how he lazily licks his lips and smiles with his eyes. It brings about a blush hotter than Hell itself, and he feels embarrassment meet hunger and the treacherous snake in his stomach start to stir again.

Noticing that his commander has neglected himself, rather content to knead his quads and pinch his love handles, McCree can’t help but worry his lip between his teeth. 

“I…” McCree mumbles, shuffling and leaning back, “please?” 

Gabriel quirks an eyebrow. McCree timidly touches himself again, hand creeping down to press at his nub. 

“Yeah?” Reyes says, hoarse. Those shy fingers slip through the excess of spit and slick to spread himself open. The younger can only nod, casting his gaze away from the sight of himself presenting to his commander. “Jesus,” he whispers in reverence, “really?”

“Please?” Jesse mumbles again with conviction, “I’ll do good—“

“I know,” Reyes hums, casting the self-imposed sense of responsibility McCree has taken on aside. Soothing the younger with tender strokes to his flank, Reyes swallows thickly, the proposition unexpected. Drunk off his last orgasm, McCree doesn’t know how to act, and Reyes can only hope it doesn’t blow up in his face for abiding by his agent’s wishes. 

He watches McCree’s fingers play with himself distractedly, no longer fixated on Reyes as he presses his fingers against his sloppy hole. A shying whimper brings Reyes back to earth. 

“How do you want me, Jess.”

“I—“ McCree starts, sucking in a sharp breath as his fingers breach, “I wanna ride you.”

“Fuck,” Reyes breathes, cock throbbing where it lay in the crease of his thigh, “alright.”

The notion of actually fucking McCree had somehow been lost on him, likely from the long-standing boundaries the younger had put between them. Reyes did nothing but respect those boundaries, even at the expense of countless flagged erections. 

Saddling his lap, Gabriel does the courtesy of holding himself upright. McCree replaces his hand and steals a few moments to run the tip between his slit, warming it with his slick. 

“Shit,” Reyes growls again, head falling back against the pillows as his cock twitches and adds its own flavor of precum to McCree’s cocktail of spit, slick, and cum. His hips instinctively flex, his hindbrain wanting nothing more than to sink into his tight heat. 

The tip fits in with some stretch. Jesse chews his lip as he shyly bounces on the first inch or so of Reyes’ cock, thighs quaking mightily. 

“C’mon,  _ niño _ .” 

A wheedling breath escapes McCree at that, and he lets himself fall part of the way down. Stuffing himself with half of his commander’s cock, he falters, stops and clenches around him.

“It's—  _ big _ ,” McCree whimpers out.

“Almost there. Keep going.”

Tentatively, McCree inches down, stomach drawing tighter the fuller he feels, stretched more than he's ever been before. He gives an experimental bounce, avoiding the last inch with a gasp. It aches, dull and intense as a drum being struck deep inside him, and he keeps himself raised on shaking legs. 

“It’s… too much,” he irks out pitifully, hair hanging bashfully in his face. 

“You can take it,” Reyes hums.

“I can’t.” It comes again, more upset. 

“You will.”

McCree shivers as Gabriel pitches his voice low, more authoritative, as if telling McCree that he doesn’t have a choice, any jurisdiction over how much cock he will take. It’s… freeing, releasing that pent up tension that came with controlling himself.

“Yessir,” he mumbles, voice small. Reyes catches it in the quickness of the response and the tightening around his cock. He starts to rock his hips, prompting Jesse to move in stunted, shallow hops. 

“You like being told what to do?” Reyes asks gruffly, trying to gauge the kid’s fickle reactions. He receives a delicate nod. “Yeah? Like when I’m in control?”

“Sir…” McCree pinches out, bracing against Reyes’ chest as he moves faster, still keeping to three-quarters of his length. The older man’s hands frame his ribs, feeling the canvas-spandex binder wrapping around him snugly.

“Deeper, Jesse.”

Hesitating, McCree slows down as his cunt swallows more of Reyes’ cock. The younger winces against the last inch, and he whimpers as he starts to bounce on it. Such a rolling, deep voice reduced into shuddering, punched out breaths, catching in his throat as he rides his commander. Reyes groans, watching McCree’s face for any red flags that he’s overstepping or asking too much.

He only finds total bliss as Jesse’s mouth falls open and his eyebrows knit together over closed eyes. Through what he can see behind his mess of shaggy hair, he’s blushing all the way to his ear tips, overlaying his spattering of freckles and accentuating his sparse facial hair.

“All of it,” Gabriel orders, starting to raise his hips up into McCree’s movements, doubling the force of their bodies. A sharp yip escapes McCree’s throat as he takes that last inch, causing his eyes to peek open at Reyes in disbelief.

“You’re--” McCree stutters through an open moan, “a-ah-- really big-- oh  _ fuck,  _ sir.” It only serves as encouragement, goading Reyes into properly fucking up into the younger’s pliant body. McCree starts to falter before bracing on Reyes with open palms over his pecs, unable to keep his own movements consistent. 

“Yeah, but you like that, don’t you?” Reyes grunts, steadying McCree’s hips so he can fuck into him with his feet braced on the bed.

“Y-Yessir--” McCree slurs, panting raggedly, arms threatening to give.

The sound is obscene- the slapping of skin fast and forceful, coupled with the slick grip of McCree’s cunt around his commander’s cock, even makes Reyes blush.

Jesse groans, gutted and broken. He braces on Reyes’ wrists, clutching his arms as he struggles not to collapse onto his chest. He doesn’t know if he can hold on, with how Reyes is rearranging his guts at just the perfect pace to leave his brains scrambled.

“Close?”

“Yeah--” McCree’s voice splits off into a weak cry. Reyes rolls them over so McCree is pinned beneath him, nearly bent in half as Reyes takes to slamming every inch of him as deep as he can get himself. His hands dimple the soft flesh of McCree’s hips, surely to bruise.

Between moments of struggle where Reyes holds himself back, he watches McCree in his ecstasy-- the cowboy is digging his nails into Reyes’ forearms as his moans turn into sharp cries, rising in volume and desperation.

“Oh-  _ pleasepleaseplease _ !” McCree keens, before starting a mantra of pleas for permission. Groaning, Reyes tucks his face into McCree’s neck and doubles down on his efforts. Latching onto him, McCree mirrors him and buries his face in Reyes’ shoulders as he cums.

“Atta boy, Jess,” Reyes rumbles, “cum on my cock.”

The younger man shudders and locks up as his pleasure rolls over him in waves of euphoria so potent he goes briefly mute. His cunt tightens around Reyes so sinfully snug that he struggles not to finish alongside him. Fucking into him, deep and hard, he prolongs his pleasure until McCree is babbling incoherently and Reyes is at his end.

Growling, he ruts in deep one last time, if just to hear one more beautiful moan, before pulling out, fisting his cock over McCree’s stomach. The younger, dazed from his intense end, only watches raptly as his commander jerks himself off, slick with his cum. Thick ropes of seed coat the sparse trail of McCree’s stomach hair as Reyes loses his composure.

“Shit, you cum a lot…” Jesse breathes reverently. Gabriel locks eyes with McCree as he milks out the last bit of cum. They simply stay stockstill, save for the rise and fall of their breathing bodies, recovering enough energy to clean up. It doesn’t take long before the cowboy is gathering his wits about him and fishing for something to cut the tension he falsely perceives between them.

“Been awhile since you got your dick wet?” he coyly asks, gesturing to the amount of cum Reyes managed to spill all over his stomach. He pets the edge of his binder, checking to see if the black fabric was saved from their activities; luckily, it was.

Reyes rolls his eyes, petting the masculinized curve of McCree’s legs, up to his hips where blooms of red are already appearing. He soothingly pets over them and hums in thought.

“Sure. Or it was you.”

McCree blinks a little dumbly at first, then blushes all over again- pouting in embarrassment. Reyes smirks. Reaching towards the edge of the bed, Reyes snags the corner of his bath towel. Almost delicately, he wipes off all of his seed and pats McCree’s stomach dry.

McCree stays quiet, watching his partner lovingly clean him up. After a bit of silence where Reyes is cleaning the insides of his thighs, he speaks up.

“What are your limits?”

“Huh?”

“What shouldn’t I say?” Reyes says, pausing to make sure he saw comprehension in his eyes before continuing, “this is the first time you let me touch you. I don’t want to upset you trying to be sexy.”

“Oh. Uh…” McCree thinks for a moment, trying to ignore the gentle wipe of the towel between his stiff legs, against his sore hole. “Don’t… call it--” he makes a sharp gesture towards where Reyes’ hands were working, “--anything ‘girly’.”

“Girly?”

“Yeah. I dunno.”

“What  _ can  _ I say?” Gabriel hums, bemused. He towels himself dry and throws it in a random direction onto the floor.

“I’d like it if you called it my cock,” McCree says slowly, deliberately, and matched with a shy hand gesturing to what he’s referring to. He lightly presses on his nub, pulling the hood back just so and catching Reyes’ eye.

His commander narrows his eyes at the excessive demonstration, but still offers an attentive hum. McCree grins deviously at the low-burning warning in his dark eyes before spreading himself open as he had done earlier.

“I like hole,” Jesse says, watching as Reyes’ eyes dart to his hand, “or cunt.”

“Yeah?” Reyes asks fictitiously, gently manhandling the other so that he wasn’t touching himself performatively anymore, “what can I talk about doing to your cunt?” McCree blushes furiously as Reyes leans on his side, trapping one of his thighs beneath his bulk and encouraging him to keep his legs splayed with a hand on his knee. Fluidly removing the binder with the cowboy’s cooperation, he looks at McCree with his chin propped in his palm, braced on his elbow.

It made Jesse feel like a toy under a big cat’s gaze. 

“Uh…” McCree says, eyes as wide as saucers as Reyes suggestively pet the swell of his ass, “I… I don’t care.” Reyes makes a low note at that, pinching the meat of his thigh as he mulls his thoughts over.

“Can I talk about filling your hole with cum?”

“Yeah,” McCree mumbles, embarrassed in how he tucks his face against Reyes’ chest. Still, he pushes his ass out just so into the contact.

“And how I want to breed you?”

McCree can only nod. His hands are balled into fists against the bedsheets.

“And how I oughta knock you up and make you mine?” Gabriel says lowly, knowing that he’s testing uncharted waters, while acknowledging that it is better to do it now than in the heat of the moment where emotions are more volatile.

Still, McCree accepts it with an enthusiastic nod.

For a moment, he stops kneading his ass.

“If I touch your cunt,” Reyes purrs, fingers edging towards his heat, “will you be wet again?”

Another nod. It gives Reyes an idea.

“Touch yourself,” Reyes instructs as his hand moves to play with his slit. True to his word, Jesse had grown excited again, and he sucks in a shuddering gasp as Reyes plays with his fresh slick. The cowboy is fast to obey, hand snaking between them to stroke his cock in quick jerks.

“That excited, all because I said I oughta fuck you full of my load?” Gabriel purrs in his ear, watching out of the corner of his eye how McCree works his hand desperately. “Hm. Wasted all that cum for nothing. Who would’ve known you wanted to be my little bitch?”

McCree groans at the name, grinding into his hand.

“Yeah, that’s all you want to be. Maybe next time.”

“Please,” McCree pants, his free hand clutching Reyes’ bicep like a lifeline.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you’re all knocked up with my seed.”

“Oh, god,” McCree moans, turning his head into the sheets as a shudder rips through him, “keep talking--”

“I’ll make sure you’re bred real well, that cute cunt fucked full of pups- wouldn’t you like that?”

His only response is a chain of broken pleas as McCree quickly nears his end, cock already sensitive from his earlier orgasms. He cums before Reyes can say anything else, and hard-- choking on his tongue as he rubs his cock for everything he’s got.

Coming down from his spot in the sky, he shivers and cuddles closer to Gabriel, who chuckles at the younger man and opens his arm to accept him. 

“Happy?” Reyes says in amusement. McCree nods shyly and kicks his feet under the covers. Petting his hip where he has bruised it, he gets comfortable himself. It will make for a beautiful reminder the following morning of one of the biggest moments of their relationship. The level of trust displayed for McCree to willingly allow his commander to dominate him in his most vulnerable state makes his chest plume with warmth. Squeezing the younger tighter to his chest, he buries his nose in his hair and sighs contently. The other mirrors him and squeezes with all of his strength, which makes Reyes chuckle and pet comforting lines down his spine until he drifted to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> the fic where i project my entire being onto mccree, aka mccree with dysphoria and intimacy issues due to it with a loving partner willing to learn.   
> i feel like not enough fics talk about what should and shouldn't be said to a dysphoric trans man during sex without a conversation, so here it is :-)


End file.
